A Nun’s Sharp Wits

“Enough!” Franz’s fist descended with a heavy thud, striking the face of the man pinned beneath him.

“The man I know would never speak such nonsense.

If you persist in this preposterous notion, do not fault my bullets for straying.”

“After all these years, you still haven’t learned.

I despise nothing more than being called a coward!”

If he continued to feign death, someone truly would end up dead.

These two men… Franz, the portly officer, was decent enough, an upright man who, even in this critical moment, still sought to restrain his partner.

Officer Luke…

Ghervil’s mind replayed the fleeting expression on his face the instant he pulled the trigger.

‘Was he truly an officer of the law?’

A small report to their captain certainly seemed in order.

“Ahem, ahem.

I believe the Mistfall City Police Department ought to implement more professional training.

Following an accidental injury, the immediate priority should be to assess the victim’s condition, not to…”

Unbeknownst to them, the young woman had positioned herself directly behind them, her face a mask of feigned disgust and disdain as she surveyed the dishevelled pair.

Absorbed in their confrontation, their attention was so entirely fixed on each other that they failed to notice her stealthy approach.

“…”

An immediate silence descended.

The two officers, their eyes wide with a ghostly shock, slowly lifted their heads and turned to face her.

The very spot where the young woman had been lying moments before was now utterly vacant, leaving both men struggling to trust their own sight.

“What are you gaping at?

We only just met yesterday morning, didn’t we, Officer Franz, Officer Luke?

Though I regret not being able to invite you inside for a warm cup of tea at the time.”

“You… I am terribly sorry, Sister Ghervil.

I never imagined that imbecile would actually discharge his weapon!” Franz finally snapped back to reality, scrambling to his feet with practiced speed.

The realization of the absurd spectacle they had just put on filled him with overwhelming shame, and his gaze meticulously scanned the young woman for any trace of injury.

Relieved of his restraints, Luke sat askew on the ground, propping himself up with his hands, his head bowed as he softly mumbled to himself.

“We met recently… I recall it now… that day on the street…”

“Is he… quite alright?” Ghervil tilted her head, her gaze shifting to the man behind Franz.

“Oh!

You needn’t concern yourself with him.” Franz swiftly bent to assist his partner, retrieving his hat and settling it back on his head.

“Perhaps I was a touch too forceful just now, and coupled with having worked an entire night shift, he’s… Please, I implore you to believe my words.

I can personally vouch for him; this man is typically a warm-hearted soul.

He must have been utterly disoriented and misjudged the situation to commit such a foolish act.”

Noticing Ghervil’s continued, silent scrutiny of Luke, he quickly added,

“Are you truly unharmed?

I sincerely hope you’ll accompany me to a hospital.

Either I or this fellow will gladly cover all the expenses.”

Franz’s sole desire at this moment was to placate the nun.

The shooting could, perhaps, be explained away, but if she chose to pursue his companion’s earlier words, that would undoubtedly lead to far greater trouble.

“There’s no need for a hospital, but whether I am truly alright…” Ghervil’s gaze settled back on the somewhat portly man, “that depends entirely on your ability to answer my questions.”

How could she possibly forgo such a prime opportunity?

She keenly remembered her paramount objective for the day: to avoid being dismissed as a mere child by those self-important individuals, even if it meant offering a few substantial clues.

“This…” Franz immediately grasped the unspoken implication.

Whether his currently despondent and inept partner would be branded a cultist or a criminal hinged entirely on his forthcoming response.

“My position, I fear, might make it challenging for me to indulge some of your curiosities, and so…”

“I understand completely.

Rest assured, my questions will in no way stray beyond the permissible bounds.

Though I may appear somewhat immature, I am a genuine nun, and I am quite capable of maintaining proper decorum.”

The young woman’s benevolent smile instilled a flicker of goodwill within him.

Perhaps he truly had been overthinking the situation.

Furthermore, confronted with such an innocent smile, he doubted many could maintain their resolve without softening and ultimately conceding.

“As agreed, then, within the permissible limits.”

“Of course.”

Ghervil had already gathered a considerable amount of useful intelligence from her eavesdropping.

She harbored no expectation that a mere police officer would possess profound knowledge; discovering even one crucial detail now would suffice.

“Have you not located the coachman Angeli since the incident occurred?” She deliberately lowered her voice, lending it a more somber tone.

“Whether as a victim, or indeed, as the perpetrator.”

“Where did you hear such a thing!?” A look of utter astonishment mixed with suspicion contorted Franz’s features.

Given the distinct possibility of the young woman’s eavesdropping, he wouldn’t have been surprised if her questions had concerned the victim’s identity or intricate case details.

After all, the investigative direction had consistently been dictated by his superiors and the dedicated detectives.

They had only been instructed on their duties after the incident had already transpired.

Among the recent directives, following the evacuation of residents from the vicinity, was to discreetly monitor for the coachman, though explicitly not to actively seek him out or make contact.

Any sighting was to be reported to their superiors without delay.

Ghervil, of course, had no intention of revealing that she was the source of the clue.

It was an unexpected twist that a randomly encountered coachman would be tied to the Blood Rose.

Perhaps the woman named Rose was also implicated.

“I trust you comprehend that our agreement does not extend to you questioning me.” Maintaining her patient demeanor, the officer’s reaction unequivocally confirmed the answer she had sought.

“I understand… You may proceed with your inquiries.”

He had already foreseen that the young woman would meticulously dissect the case from beginning to end.

He could only endeavor to deflect her inquiries; it was surely best not to burden a child who had only recently lost ‘family’ with too many details of a murder.

“Then, along with your companion, simply forget everything that has just transpired.”

Was she truly not going to pursue the matter further?

Franz was utterly overjoyed.

He hastily pulled the bewildered Luke forward from behind him, pressing down on his head as they both bowed deeply in unison.

“Your magnanimity is as exceptional as your beauty.

May the Goddess bless…”

Before he could complete his words of gratitude, the space before him fell silent.

He looked up to find the young woman striding purposefully into the depths of the alley, without so much as a backward glance.

The lockdown directive remained firmly in place; no one was permitted to loiter in the vicinity, least of all a young woman with clearly ulterior motives.

Did ‘forgetting everything that happened’ extend even to this?

He wavered, unsure whether to step forward and intervene, yet the young woman held a significant piece of leverage over him…

As he mulled over his dilemma, he observed his companion trailing after the young woman.

The police emblem on Luke’s shoulder, bearing the inscription ‘Mistfall City Police Department’, appeared to have been half-torn from its fastenings during their earlier struggle.

With a sigh of resignation, he rubbed his forehead.

What choice did he have?

He was a police officer, after all, and leaving a young woman exposed to danger was simply not their way.

“Sister Ghervil, that path ahead is not one you should tread.

I implore you, do not make our duties more arduous.” Franz, moving with a speed that surpassed both her and Luke, once again intercepted Ghervil’s progress.

“So, I was indeed on the correct path?” Ghervil cast a sidelong glance forward.

“I should have trusted my intuition from the start; I’ve wasted so much time circling around…”

“Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?

Proceeding any further is strictly prohibited…”

Franz’s anxiety began to mount.

Was he truly compelled to spell out the severe ramifications?

“I heard you.

Rest assured, you never agreed to my entry, nor did you even perceive me.

I merely snuck in myself, and I have no intention of jeopardizing your livelihoods.”

“If I genuinely cared only for my livelihood, I wouldn’t have come to impede you.

Furthermore, my position is not so easily forfeited!”

“Truly unconcerned?

Not easily forfeited, you say?”

Observing the subtle curl at the corner of the young woman’s lips, Franz instantly understood he had misspoken.

“What cursed words have I uttered now…”

“My neighbors are exceptionally astute individuals.

You grasp my meaning, do you not, Officer Franz?”

“I… I rather suspect I’d prefer not to know.”

“Individuals of such caliber typically possess keen observational skills and a remarkable aptitude for detail.

If I were to return in this state, without any attempt at concealment, I fear it would consume an inordinate amount of time to meticulously explain to them precisely why a section of my hair has gone missing—what are your thoughts on that, Officer?”

‘Was she truly a nun?

Or merely a child?’

He found himself utterly speechless, frantically sifting through his mental archives for any impression of a nun.

They were typically either dogmatic and austere, inspiring an unconscious reverence and an air of untouchability, or else they were benevolent and approachable, their speech and bearing radiating an elegant, ladylike grace.

‘It seemed… none of them ever quite touched upon the notion of ‘cunning’ or ‘calculating depths,’ did they?’

The unsettling sensation was akin to negotiating with a remarkably shrewd and experienced merchant.

Indeed, she had never explicitly declared her intention to ‘let the matter drop’; he had merely assumed it.

The indignity was stifling, a bitter pill he couldn’t voice, to have suffered such a significant setback at the hands of a mere child.

With a sigh, he stepped aside, then clapped his trailing companion on the shoulder, shaking his head in a mixture of exasperation and disappointment.

‘If only this fellow hadn’t uttered those damnable words…’

“Haha, just a joke.

How could I possibly be such a wicked person?” Ghervil chuckled softly, a private moment of glee as she continued onward.

She had taken but a few steps when she encountered a three-way fork in the path, each route appearing remarkably indistinguishable from the others.

This time, her smile vanished.

He had originally intended to simply clock out, return home to his wife, catch up on much-needed sleep, and conveniently erase the morning’s vexations from his mind.

Indeed, Franz had almost convinced himself that things weren’t so dire after all.

Yet reality, it seemed, delighted in its cruel jests.

From behind him, he heard the young woman’s voice, brimming with a self-assured righteousness, yet underscored by a faint trace of embarrassment.

“Perhaps you might consider leading the way for me?

I can guarantee to forget the unpleasantness of this morning, and furthermore, I shall personally attest before your superiors that you both performed your duties with unwavering diligence and not a hint of laxity.”